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“She had always been very fond of sitting at that window and 
looking out at the bird-house.” 


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BY 


Lillie Fuller Merriam 

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Illustrated by C. L. Butler 


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Copyright, 1910 

THE C. M. CLARK PUBLISHING CO. 
Boston, Massachusetts 
U. S. A. 


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CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. Jenny Meets the Sparrow Family . . i 

II. The Birds’ Grand Ball . . . . .19 

III. The Molasses Candy Boy . . . -33 

IV. The Canary Musicale . ^ . . . -43 

V. The Little Birds’ Coming Out Party . . 61 

VI, The Sparrow Family Goes South for the 

Winter ........ 75 

VII, Jenny’s Fly-away Canary . . . .82 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


‘‘She had always been very fond of sitting at that window 

and looking out at the bird-house/’ . Frontispiece y 

PAGE 

“Just then a bright-eyed, fine-looking young Mr. Mock- 
ing Bird spied her.” ..... 

The Bird-House . . . . . . *31*^ 

“As she alighted on the sill she had discovered the mo- 
lasses candy boy” . . . . *41 ^ 

“She came to the window in her white nightie just in time 
to see the whole flock rise into the air and fly away 
diie South” . . . . • 59 i/ 

“He looked back over his shoulder and said ‘Quack,’ 

‘Quack’ again” . . . . . 74 ^ 


DEDICATION 


T 0 the memory of 
him who was the inspiration 
of her efforts toward development 
of the highest and best 
in her nature through childhood, 
girlhood and womanhood, 
her beloved uncle 


David Boardman Flint 








INTRODUCTION 


T his little book has been written 
by the real Jenny’s mother for 
the children who love birds and are 
fond of “ making-believe.” 



4 



JENNY^S BIRD-HOUSE 

JENNY MEETS THE 
SPARROW FAMILY 

T here was once a little girl 
named Jenny. She was a dear 
little girl, very sweet and gentle and 
loving. She had been quite ill with 
a fever but was slowly getting well. 
She and her mother had had many 
happy times together in spite of the 
illness, for her mother had been her 
nurse. Naps were necessary things 
her “Mama nurse” had told her; so, 
about two o’clock one afternoon, she 
had been tucked into her little white 
bed. The shades had been drawn 

I 


down and the screen put carefully 
about the fire so that no spark should 
take it into its head to pop out on 
the rug. Her mother had kissed her, 
as she always did when she was going 
out of the room for a long time, and 
Jenny had been left to take a nap. 

After her mother had gone, the 
little girl closed her eyes and tried 
to sleep but, dear me, thoughts about 
everything would come and keep her 
eyes wide open. She thought of her 
different playmates, of the little girl 
friend next door, her pet dog, her 
pretty Angora kitten that she had 
not seen since she had been ill. 

Suddenly she remembered the little 
white bird-house on a pole in the 
next yard and the more she thought 
of it, the more she wished she might 
see just how it looked inside. It 
could be seen from one of the nurs- 
ery windows — which was the room 
she was in now — and she had always 


been very fond of sitting at that win- 
dow and looking out at the bird- 
house. It was a very stately bird- 
house with a tower and an arched 
doorway in the tower which was large 
and square and three stories high, 
while the other part of the house 
was but two stories high and had 
two rows of long windows. There 
were five birds in the bird family 
that was living in it this year — a 
father bird and a mother bird and 
three tiny birds. 

Jenny had watched them a good 
deal the past few days and felt as if 
she knew them quite well. How she 
wished she were small enough to go 
into the bird-house just as the birds 
did and as though it were a truly 
house. It would be such fun to go 
and call upon the mama bird and see 
the little baby birds. She kept think- 
ing and thinking about it and wishing 
and wishing. She closed her eyes 


and tried to imagine how it probably 
looked inside the little white house 
on the pole. 

Oh my, she felt herself lifted high 
up above the trees — she seemed to 
be flying — and then she seemed to 
stop suddenly— she opened her eyes 
and found herself standing in front 
of the arched door of the tower of 
the bird-house, high above the 
ground, on top of the tall pole and, 
quite to her surprise, there seemed 
to be plenty of room for her. 

“I do believe I’m no bigger than 
a Jenny Wren,” said she. 

As she looked about her, she saw 
a little door-plate by the side of 
the door and on it was printed 
“ Benjamin Sparrow” so she knew 
it was the Benjamin Sparrow family 
who lived there. She peeped in at 
the door which stood wide open as 
if it invited people to walk in, and 
Jenny did so very quickly. 

4 


She found herself in a big hall 
which ran through to the other side 
of the tower. On one side of the 
hall there seemed to be a tiny re- 
ception room and beyond that a 
room in which she caught a glimpse 
of a grand piano and a number of tiny 
violins. The walls seemed to be 
covered with rows of jews’ harps. 
“That,” thought little Jenny, “must 
be the music-room.” 

A grand staircase led to the next 
floor. Jenny hopped along to the 
foot of it and looked up and turning 
her bright little head peeped at first 
one side and then the other just as 
she had seen little birds do. She 
thought to herself, “ I’d just love to 
go up those stairs and see what is 
up there.” 

Just then she heard from up above 
her what seemed like a bird chirping 
because she was not used, yet, to 
bird language. At last, to her sur- 


prise, she understood that Mrs. Ben- 
jamin Sparrow was calling down to 
her, “Won’t you come right up, 
Jenny Wren?” 

You may imagine her delight. This 
was just what she wanted and so up 
she went. But she did not run up, 
— she hopped up with both feet at 
a time from one stair to another. 
She thought it was queer to do this 
at first, but by the time she had 
reached the top step, she did it as 
naturally as any other little bird. 

There stood little Mrs. Sparrow 
with the tip of her pretty brown 
wing held out to greet Jenny. Jenny 
touched it with the tip of her brown 
wing and saw that she had shaken 
hands in the way best liked by birds. 
Mrs. Sparrow wore a tiny little lace 
apron over her brown dress, for, as 
she explained to her visitor, “ It’s the 
nurse’s afternoon out and I am tak- 
ing care of the children. I have 
6 


three and all are of the same age. 
Come and see them.” 

The nursery was a pretty room at 
the head of the stairs and opened 
into Mrs. Sparrow’s own room. 
There were three little cribs in it, 
and in each was a tiny sparrow. 

“This one is little Ben Sparrow,” 
said their fond mother, leading Jenny 
from crib to crib, “this is little Tom 
Sparrow and this one is little Miss 
Susan Sparrow. They look just like 
their father, every one of them.” 
Mrs. Sparrow looked proudly at each 
little bird and Jenny saw that she 
was expected to admire them, which 
she tried to do but found it pretty 
hard for they had very few feathers 
and their mouths were, by far, the 
largest part of them. They were 
hungry all the time and kept calling 
mama-bird, who had to be constantly 
giving them bits of chopped worms 
and now and then a fly from a dish 


on the centre-table. Jenny Wren 
thought she had never seen such 
restless children, but, probably, they 
were only very much like some little 
boys and girls whom we know, when 
Mother has a caller. 

There were all sorts of pretty and 
amusing things for bird children in 
the nursery. Each little bird had a 
tiny ring that was hung from the 
ceiling — these were their swings. Each 
had his own little cup, and rods 
were fastened across two corners of 
the room so that they could perch 
upon them. In another corner there 
was a little seat made to represent a 
bird’s nest, and there Jenny and Mrs. 
Sparrow sat to have a talk. Jenny 
was quite sure she was hearing more 
bird-gossip than she had ever heard 
before in all her life. 

“ Now what do you think?” said 
Mrs. Sparrow. “ Mr. Robin, one of 
our neighbors, went awav for a 


whole day, leaving his wife and chil- 
dren nothing to eat from four in 
the morning till five at night. Their 
cries of hunger disturbed the whole 
neighborhood; but, of course, no one 
could do anything for them because 
there are no other Robins in the set- 
tlement and, naturally. Sparrows and 
other kinds of birds wouldn’t know 
what Robins would want to eat.” 

Jenny said, “Of course not.” 

“ Do you know Mrs. E. Sparrow, 
Jenny Wren?” asked Mrs. Benjamin 
Sparrow. “ I mean the one who has 
a summer residence in the eaves of 
Mr. Howe’s barn.” 

Jenny replied that she had noticed 
Mrs. E. Sparrow flying about, but 
had never met her. 

“ She has one club-footed child,” 
went on Mrs. Sparrow. “I should 
feel dreadfully if we had a club- 
footed child. Our children’s feet are 
all perfect, just like their father’s.” 

9 


At this, each little bird Sparrow put 
his or her feet over the top of the 
crib so that Jenny could see how 
perfect they were. 

“ The Cedar-Bird children are such 
dear little things, Jenny! I saw them 
yesterday, Tommy and Betty Cedar, 
sitting on a branch of the apple tree 
in the next yard. First Tommy 
hopped over and kissed Betty — then 
hopped back. By and by Betty 
hopped over and kissed Tommy, then 
went back to where she was sitting. 
They kept doing that for at least 
five minutes. I love to see affection 
in families, don’t you? Father and 
Mother Cedar-Bird were so kind last 
year to the little Robin who lost both 
her parents. They adopted her and 
brought her up with their own 
children.” 

“How very kind!” exclaimed Jenny, 
“ I wonder if that little kitten had 
just lost her mother — I mean the 

10 


one who was crying so in the 

Palmer’s garden yesterday afternoon. 
Every one in the neighborhood ran 
out to see what was the matter, and 
hunted everywhere, but they couldn’t 
find the kitten.” 

Mrs. Sparrow burst out laughing. 
“I saw them,” she said when she 
could get her breath, “and there 

wasn’t any kitten at all. Mr. Cat- 
bird had been calling on us and 

he said when he went away, ‘Now 
watch for some fun.’ So he hid 

himself on this side of the fence and 
began to cry like a cat, and that 
was what made the people come out 
to look for it. I was peeping from 
the nursery window and holding onto 
my sides till my wings fairly ached. 

“ To change the subject — Have you 
met Mr. Bobolink, Jenny Wren?” 

“ I never have,” said Jenny, “ I 
don’t know him when I see him.” 

“ You can’t mistake him when you 


II 


do, for he dresses so differently from 
other birds. He looks as if he wore 
his coat the wrong way round, for 
he has a black breast and a white 
back. Most of the gentlemen birds 
wear dark coats and white, or fancy, 
vests. Mr. Bobolink is a merry fel- 
low, always singing, and so full of 
fun all the time. Mr. and Mrs. 
Bobolink know very well how to 
keep bird-hunters from finding their 
nest. They fly about and pretend it 
is in first one place and then another, 
if they are being watched, until the 
hunter is tired out and gives up try- 
ing to find the nest.” 

“How clever!” said Jenny. 

“Very!” said Mrs. Sparrow. 

All this bird talk seemed very 
natural to Jenny because she was get- 
ting used to being a little bird in- 
stead of a little girl. By and by she 
felt that she must go and hopped 
down to the floor. Just then the 


nurse returned; so Mrs. Sparrow went 
out of the nursery with her visitor. 
To Jenny’s delight, for she was so 
anxious to see the whole of the in- 
side of the bird-house, the kind 
little hostess said, “ You have never 
visited us before, Jenny, wouldn’t you 
like to look about our new home?” 

Jenny said she would be delighted 
to do so. They went first to the 
top floor of the tower which had a 
lovely view of Mr. Coolidge’s house, 
the back of Dr. Palmer’s barn and 
of the Martins’ garbage pail, around 
which were gathered a number of 
very elegant-looking birds. Strange 
to say Jenny found she was very 
much interested in this pail to-day. 
She had always been rather distressed 
about it before. ‘‘It must be because 
I’m a little bird now,” thought she. 

After looking through the rooms 
Jenny and her hostess hopped gaily 
down the two flights of stairs to the 
13 


ground floor, chattering all the way, 
as birds are apt to do. 

“ This is our dining room,” said 
Mrs. Sparrow as she took Jenny 
through a wide door, leading from 
the hall into the other part of the 
house. It was all one room and was 
two stories high. “ This makes a 
lovely ball-room,” chirped Mrs. Spar- 
row, “ and that just reminds me that 
we have our grand ball next week 
and it would give Mr. Sparrow and 
me much pleasure if you would 
come, my dear.” 

Jenny bowed and said she would 
certainly come, at the same time 
wondering if her sober brown dress 
would be gay enough for so great 
an occasion. 

“ How kind you are to ask me, 
Mrs. Sparrow,” she said gratefully; 
but Mrs. Sparrow said they would 
be honored if she came. Then they 
said good-bye to each other on the 


doorstep, and Jenny turned to go. 

“Oh dear me!” she said to herself, 
“how shall I ever get home? It’s 
very, very high up here.” 

She went to the edge of the 
terrace — it was a square board — on 
which the bird-house stood, and 
looked over. It was a long way to 
the ground, but she must go for she 
knew her dear mother would be 
frightened to find her gone. So she 
shut her eyes tightly together, spread 
out her wings and jumped. She felt 
herself dropping slowly down, down, 
and she alighted as softly as one of 
her new feathers might have done. 
She opened her eyes and found her- 
self in her own nursery. 

There she was in her little white 
bed. She looked for Mrs. Sparrow, 
but instead she saw bottles with all 
sorts of medicines that her mother 
had been giving her while she had 
been ill. There were no little cribs 
1-5 


in her nursery, no ring-swings hung 
from the ceiling. She lay very still 
for a few minutes and was only fairly 
wakened when her mother bent lov- 
ingly over her and said, “Why, my 
dear little daughter, you have had a 
long, long nap — you must have been 
dreaming something very pleasant.” 

“Oh, I did have such a pretty 
dream. Mama dear,” said the little 
girl, putting her arms around her 
mother’s neck and nestling close; 
then while she had her supper which 
Mama-nurse brought her on a little 
china tray, with the dearest little 
china dishes all her very own, Jenny 
told her mother all about her dream- 
visit to the bird-house. 


i6 



Just then a bright-eyed, fine-looking young Mr, Mocking Bird spied h 





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CHAPTER II 

THE BIRDS’ GRAND BALL 


O NE week later found little Jenny 
very, very much better, but still 
in need of her afternoon nap, so her 
mother had darkened the room after 
tucking her in, and had left her with 
a kiss. 

The child lay in her pretty white 
bed thinking. At last she remem- 
bered her dream about the bird- 
house and said to herself, “Oh my, 
this is the day of the Birds’ Grand 
Ball. How I wish I might go!” She 
tried to “ make believe ” just how it 
would look but soon grew too sleepy 

19 


and at last shut her eyes. When she 
opened them, to her surprise, she 
found herself again standing just out- 
side the arched doorway of the little 
bird-house. 

They had put up an awning of 
gaily striped cloth in front of the 
arched door, and birds of all kinds 
were coming from every direction 
through the air and dropping down 
upon the square terrace upon which 
the bird-house stood, until it was 
almost covered with them. Such 
straightening of wing and tail 
feathers, fluffing out of jabots and 
shirt fronts, Jenny had never seen 
before. Then each gallant Mr. Bird 
offered his right wing to his fair 
companion and they hopped along, 
keeping step perfectly, under the 
awning, up the steps and through 
the arched door, into the grand 
hall. 

As birds never need to lay aside 


20 


any wraps, they could go at once 
to speak to their hostess. 

At first little Jenny felt very shy 
and strange, for it was all new to 
her. She had never attended a Birds’ 
Ball before, and, as she had no escort, 
she almost wished she had not come, 
although she knew she looked un- 
commonly well in her new, fresh 
brown dress, not a feather of which 
could be found fault with. She stood 
a moment at the door gathering 
courage to enter. Just then a bright- 
eyed, fine-looking young Mr. Mock- 
ing Bird spied her. He hopped gaily 
down the steps and offered her his 
wing with all the grace imaginable. 
Jenny was delighted. Now she need 
not mind that she had come alone. 
She thanked him and politely accepted 
his wing. More than one turned to 
look at them, as they hopped grace- 
fully along, keeping time to the 
strains of music which floated down 


21 


from the top of the grand staircase 
where she spied Mr. Robin Red- 
breast and his band. 

As Jenny passed the music-room 
she peeped in and saw that the vio- 
lins and all the jews’-harps had dis- 
appeared, so she thought to herself, 
“ It is quite evident that Mr. Robin 
and his musicians are using them.” 

As she looked about her, she saw 
birds, birds, birds of every possible 
description. Blue Jays, Blackbirds, 
Sparrows, Swallows, Kingbirds, Bobo- 
links, Meadow Larks, Whippoorwills, 
very many of the English Sparrows, 
and two Nightingales, who had 
come from the South expressly to 
be at this ball. There were a num- 
ber of pretty Orioles with the most 
beautiful gowns she had ever seen. 
“They surely must have come all 
the way from California,” thought 
Jenny. “ I have never seen them in 
this neighborhood before.” 


22 


The host and hostess stood at the 
end of the long hall, receiving their 
many guests; and as Jenny reached 
them with her handsome escort, Mr. 
Mocking Bird, she was honored by a 
sweet smile and an affectionate kiss 
from Mrs. Sparrow. 

At a sign from the hostess, Mr. 
Blackbird whistled loudly. The birds 
understood what it meant for sudden- 
ly the gay throng stopped hopping 
about through the hall and lower 
rooms and gathered in the grand hall 
and on the staircase to listen to little 
Miss Canary, who was so very kind 
as to favor them, so the host an- 
nounced, with one of her most 
beautiful songs. They were a very 
appreciative audience. Not even a 
chirp was heard during the song. 

“Little birds,” thought Jenny, “are 
very, very polite when people sing. 
“I’ll try to remember this.” 

Little Miss Canary was evidently 
23 


an opera singer, for she sang very 
high notes and her little body swayed 
about a great deal, until it almost 
seemed as though her tiny throat 
would burst with the marvelous arias 
she trilled. 

After the song by Miss Canary, 
they were invited to the grand ball- 
room, and as they hopped along 
Jenny heard the sweet strains of a 
waltz. The room was soon filled 
with guests. The windows had been 
darkened and the room was beauti- 
fully lighted by a thousand tiny fire- 
flies. Jenny thought she had never 
seen anything half so pretty. The 
dancing was a funny performance. 
Jenny thought it more unique than 
graceful, and, as she stood watching 
them, she laughed till her sides ached 
to see a fat Cock Robin puffing away 
as he and little Miss Humming Bird 
went waltzing around the room. Lit- 
tle Miss Humming Bird was so tiny 
24 


she looked as though the wind might 
blow her away. And then, there was 
another comical sight, too. It was 
Mr. Wren making every effort to 
pilot a huge Mrs. Bluebird through 
the dip waltz. 

“Oh, that must be my cousin,” 
thought Jenny. “His name is the 
same as mine.” 

He soon came over to where Jenny 
was sitting, fanning himself with his 
wing and fairly gasping. He very 
politely invited Jenny to take a spin 
with him, but having seen his ex- 
perience with Mrs. Bluebird, Jenny 
thought she had better not try. So, 
thanking him very sweetly, she called 
his attention from the dance by ask- 
ing him about his wife and family, 
and if he were her cousin. 

The host soon announced that re- 
freshments would be served on the 
terrace, and as Jenny peeped through 
the window she saw what she thought 
25 


looked very much like one of the 
little Martin girl’s pocket handker- 
chiefs, of which the host had made a 
tent. She noticed that it had an 
“M” in the corner, anyway. 

“That’s queer,’’ thought Jenny, 
“but I suppose they borrowed it.” 

The dancers went merrily about, 
helping themselves to freshly caught 
rain water and a variety of eatables, 
some of which Jenny was quite sure 
she had seen that very day in the 
Martins’ garbage pail. Everything 
tasted so good, however, that she 
thought to herself that she would 
beg the cook for the scraps after 
this. 

Then followed more dancing — 
Waltzes, Two-steps, Polkas, Virginia 
Reels, which the short-tailed birds 
could dance much more easily than 
the long-tailed birds. Jenny, at last, 
found a fine partner in Mr. Bal- 
timore Oriole. It was all very gay, 

26 


but finally Jenny’s feet began to feel 
tired and she was glad to see that 
it was nearing time to go. 

Every one was bidding the host and 
hostess good-bye. Jenny had noticed 
that Mrs. Sparrow had been obliged to 
excuse herself a dozen times or more 
to satisfy the wants of the little Spar- 
rows, in the nursery. Jenny had seen 
them when she made her call the 
week before. They were very trouble- 
some little Sparrows to-day and re- 
fused to take anything to eat, except 
from their mother’s bill. 

The terrace was now full of guests 
getting ready to depart. Mr. Robin 
and his band were playing “When 
the Swallows Homeward Fly.’’ Jenny 
had said good-bye to her escort, Mr. 
Mocking Bird, who had asked per- 
mission to call on her some day soon. 
She thanked him for his kind atten- 
tion. They had touched the tips of 
their right wings, which is the way 
27 


little birds shake hands, and with a 
sudden good-bye song they had all 
flown away — all but Jenny. 

For the first time that afternoon she 
realized that she had not been born 
a bird, because here she was again 
wondering how to reach the ground. 
She stood first on one foot, then on 
the other. She ran to the edge of 
the terrace, peeped over and when 
she saw how far above the ground 
she was, her little heart went pitty- 
pat. Just then she heard her host 
say in a deep masculine chirp, “Shall 
I assist you to descend?” Before she 
could reply, she found she had been 
politely pushed — yes, that is the only 
word for it — right over the edge. 

Her surprise at this was followed 
by another — she found she could fly, 
so she kept on and on until she 
alighted in the apple tree in Dr. Bald- 
win’s yard. There she rested in the 
old tree for awhile. Now she was 

28 


quite courageous, and decided she 
would try all by herself. She spread 
her wings and flew straight for the 
maple tree near her own home. Just 
then the most intense longing to see 
her mother came over her. She 
shut her eyes and made a bold dash 
for the open window of her own 
room, where she knew she would 
find her mother sitting with her sew- 
ing. When she was sure she was 
inside, she opened her eyes and found 
that she wasn’t Jenny Wren any more, 
but just plain Jenny again, in her lit- 
tle white bed. 

She lay very still, looking about her 
at the pretty room and everything in 
it. Then she saw the one she loved 
most of all — her dear mama, who 
sat by the window, quietly sewing. 
She called to her: 

“Oh, Mama dear, I have had an- 
other most beautiful dream of the 
bird-house. Shall I tell you about it?” 

29 


“Of course I’d like to hear about 
it, Sweetheart,” she said. 

“ It was about a grand ball that 
Mrs. Sparrow invited me to come to 
last week but I never dreamed that 
I could go and then I dreamed that 
I did,” the little girl laughed. 

“ It was so pretty — ever so many 
birds were there that looked just like 
the pictures in my bird-book.” 

Holding her mother’s hand closely 
in hers, her eyes as bright as stars 
with excitement, her cheeks flushed 
pink from her nap, Jenny told her 
mother everything she could remem- 
ber about the Birds’ Grand Ball. 



30 



The Bird-House 





CHAPTER III 


THE MOLASSES CANDY BOY 

O NE day while Jenny was still in 
her room after her illness, some 
one who loved her very much sent in 
to her a molasses candy boy. He 
was quite a good-sized boy, about five 
or six inches long. He had a funny, 
flat, round head and two flat, long 
arms and two flat, long legs which 
could be easily eaten, she thought. 
His mouth was made of a stoned 
raisin, his eyes and the tip of his 
nose were made of currants. His 
body was rather round and looked 
as though he had on a boy’s jacket 
buttoned way up to his throat. You 


may be sure Jenny was delighted to 
see this molasses candy boy. 

She had been ill for some time 
and had not seen her little friends 
for weeks, and might not for some 
time to come, so the molasses candy 
boy seemed almost like an old friend. 
He looked so good that she touched 
the tip of his arms and feet with 
her tongue. My, but it was deli- 
cious! But no, it wouldn’t do for her 
to eat him the very first day of his 
stay, so she only took little tastes of 
him now and again and he wasn’t 
very much shorter when night came 
than when he arrived that morning. 
She would have liked to go to sleep 
with him under her pillow, but she 
knew that that would never do with a 
molasses candy child, so her mother 
put him on a little plate and set him 
outside the window, on the sill, 
almost closing the window — but not 
quite. 


34 


Now, it happened that the Sparrow 
family, who lived in the bird-house 
in the next yard, and with whom 
Jenny had grown quite well acquaint- 
ed during her illness, always took an 
airing about five o’clock in the 
morning before Father bird went to 
business. Mr. Sparrow bought and 
sold grasshoppers and angleworms. 

The baby Sparrows had now learned 
to fly quite well, so the whole family 
could go out together. The only 
thing Mama bird and Papa bird 
had to do was to chirp “Up,” and 
away the children would fly, directly 
into a tree or onto a roof; or, they 
would say “ Down ” and with very 
little fussing indeed they would drop 
to the ground. 

Mrs. Sparrow had been out on 
this particular morning for some little 
time before the others. She had 
thought she would make a visit to 
Jenny’s room and as she alighted on 
35 


the sill she had discovered the mo- 
lasses candy boy. She knew it must 
be very good and she said to herself 
as she picked out one of his currant 
eyes, “ I will just delay my visit to 
Jenny and have a feast for myself 
and the little ones.” So she hurried 
to the bird-house to tell them what 
she had found. 

She soon came back to the win- 
dow sill with all the little Sparrows, 
and their father soon joined them. 
He had been making a call at the 
Martins’ garbage pail, which stood 
just behind the shrubbery and which 
. was always his first stop from the 
bird-house. He had been sorry to 
leave it, but of course his wife must 
be obeyed at once. Oh my, weren’t 
they all glad when they reached the 
window sill and saw the surprise 
that Mother Sparrow had for them. 
They fluttered and peeped, and away 
went the raisins and the currants in 
36 


a minute. The little boy’s coat was 
soon full of bill pecks and tiny foot- 
prints, for, I regret to say, birds are 
not very fastidious, and think noth- 
ing of walking about in their break- 
fast plates. 

Once they heard a little noise from 
the room where Jenny slept, and 
Father bird gave a sharp little chirp 
so that in an instant the whole Spar- 
row family was on the roof of the 
Palmer piazza across the yard. Pres- 
ently Mrs. Sparrow flew back. She 
landed very lightly on the window 
sill, then looked cautiously about her. 
She stood on tiptoe and stretched her 
little neck until she could look into 
the room. She saw Jenny, who looked 
as though she might be asleep. With 
a very low, gentle chirp, she called 
her family back to the tempting 
breakfast, so generously provided for 
them by some one. 

Ah, but she did not see with her 
37 


bright black eyes the pair of bright 
gray ones that were looking at her 
over the top of the sheet. The noise 
of the little family enjoying her be- 
loved molasses candy boy, of which 
she had had only a tiny taste herself, 
had wakened Jenny. At first she was 
about to frighten them away, but she 
soon saw that it was spoiled for her 
use already, and perhaps it might 
give them more pleasure, so she de- 
cided to let them enjoy it in order 
to have the fun of seeing them. 
She “ made believe ” that she was 
asleep, for every few minutes little 
Mrs. Sparrow peeped in and she knew 
that the slightest noise in the room 
would make them fly away. 

For fully twenty minutes they ate 
and fluttered about, flying away and 
then returning. “ I think they must 
be carrying part of it home,” thought 
Jenny to herself. ‘‘Next time I visit 
there I will just notice if they serve 
38 


me with any of my molasses candy 
boy for lunch.” 

Such fun as the little Sparrows had, 
no one could describe. Once little 
Susan got so bold as to fairly step 

inside the window in her eagerness 

to get at a bit of the candy that had 
gone flying through as Mr. Sparrow 
broke off a huge bite. When she 

found that she was in the room, the 

way she hopped out set Jenny to 
shaking with laughter under the bed 
clothes, as she pulled them over her 
head that they might not hear her. 
At last they flew away, leaving her 
to wonder what Mrs. Sparrow would 
give them, if they should have little 
bird “ tummy-aches ” after they got 
home. 

Just then, Jenny’s mama came 
into the room and went directly to 
the window to close it. She spied 
the poor molasses candy boy,— what 
there was left of him,— and brought 
39 


him in. He certainly looked as 
though he belonged to a “down- 
trodden” race, but Jenny told her 
mama she was sure she had enjoyed 
it as much as the Sparrow family, and 
more than if she had eaten it herself. 


40 



As she alighted on the sill she had discovered the molasses candy boy. 



4 


;T ^ 



CHAPTER IV 

THE CANARY MUSICALE 



HERE was great commotion in 


1 the bird-house. Even the people 
passing along in the street below 
said to each other, “ Why, dear me, 
what is the matter with the birds in 
the bird-house? They are terribly 
excited.” But how could they know, 
poor things, that the celebrated Miss 
Canary, who sang at the Birds’ Grand 
Ball, was coming for a short visit to 
the Sparrow family? 

Mrs. Sparrow had given the house 


43 


a very thorough cleaning after the 
ball, but there was a great deal more 
to be done, for she was an excellent 
housekeeper, as well as a charming 
hostess. And, would you believe it, 
in the midst of the sweeping and 
dusting and piano tuning, the wash- 
ing of windows, the shaking of rugs 
and the sending out of invitations to 
their dearest friends to come to meet 
Miss Canary that afternoon, down 
came the three Sparrow children with 
pin-feathers; and you know just what 
children with pin-feathers are. They 
want their mother every minute. Mrs. 
Sparrow had been obliged to send 
for Dr. Wild Duck and a new nurse, 
that she might have some time to de- 
vote to Miss Canary. 

Is it any wonder that little Mrs. 
Sparrow hardly knew what she was 
about with all this going on? There 
were the jews’-harps to be restrung, 
the telephone was continually ring- 
44 


ing and, in the midst of it, a call 
from a curious neighbor, a Miss 
Wren — not Miss Jenny Wren, but 
another Miss Wren — who wanted to 
find out all about the musicale. All 
this, with constant chirps and cries 
from the nursery, so distracted Mrs. 
Sparrow that she forgot to see that 
something very necessary was done,— 
something that annoyed her very much 
afterwards, and made her quite un- 
happy. But we will tell you more 
about this later. 

About three o’clock little Miss 
Canary arrived, somewhat out of 
breath from flying so high. She was 
followed by a stout Sparrow with her 
“box,” as they say in England, 
strapped upon his back. Mrs. Spar- 
row flew to meet her guest and 
folded the downy creature in her 
wings. Miss Canary’s feathers were 
somewhat rumpled after her journey, 
so she smoothed down her plumage 
45 


with great care when her hostess 
released her, for she was wearing her 
very best gown. 

“Come right into the reception 
room and have something to eat be- 
fore you go to your room,” said 
Mrs. Sparrow, turning to introduce 
Jenny, who had been asked to come 
early. 

When they had all been served 
with sweetened rain water and toasted 
snails, they went to the pretty room 
which Miss Canary was to have 
during her stay at the bird-house. 
This room had beautiful draperies 
and bed-spread of yellow satin, and 
all the furniture had been re-covered 
in yellow, for the Sparrows knew 
that their guest loved that cheerful 
color. Miss Canary spoke of it at 
once, saying, “How kind of you to 
do this, Mrs. Sparrow!” Mrs. Spar- 
row was very much pleased and she 
answered that it had been a great 

46 


pleasure to prepare the room for her. 

“This looks very much like the 
piece of satin that Virginia had to 
make dolls’ clothes of,” thought Jenny 
Wren as she stood beside their hostess, 
looking about the pretty room and 
wondering if they would furnish a 
room in brown, to go with her 
brown dress, should they invite her 
to spend the night. “ I’m quite sure 
this looks like the same piece of 
satin,” she went on thinking. “ I re- 
member Virginia and Constance hunt- 
ed everywhere for it the day they 
left their sewing on the lawn to go 
autoing with Virginia’s father, and 
they never found it. Of course Mrs. 
Sparrow wouldn’t take what didn’t 
belong to her, but the South Wind 
may have brought it to her — winds 
do carry things about so — and it 
certainly is just the same shade.” 

After a visit to the nursery, where 
they found all the little Sparrows fast 
47 


asleep, the three ladies sat down in 
Miss Canary’s room to have a good 
chat such as all women enjoy. They 
were so glad to hear all about her 
voice, her singing and everything that 
she liked to tell them, that Miss 

Canary told them the story of her 
life. 

She was born and lived through 
her early bird-hood in the Canary 
Islands. One day an American sea- 
captain, whose ship was in the har- 
bor, heard her sing and he liked 
her voice so much that he asked 
her papa and mama if he might 

bring her to America with him. 

They gave their consent and so she 
had lived in his home in the far 
South as one of his family until 

about a year ago, when the sea- 
captain had died and the home was 
now broken up; so she had come 
out, through an open window, to 
make her way in the world with 


her voice, and she was very happy 
to tell them that she had met with 
more success than she had ever 
hoped for. 

“You are so good to ask me to 
spend the night in a real bird-house, 
Mrs. Sparrow,” she said, giving her 
an affectionate peck, which is the 
bird way of kissing, “for my life 
has been rather lonely the past year.” 

“Well, it certainly won’t be lonely 
here if the little Sparrow children 
can help it,” said Jenny Wren, for 
at that moment a wild chirping from 
the nursery had sent Mother Sparrow 
hopping down stairs. 

“ I believe I am just a wee bit 
tired, Jenny Wren. Will you excuse 
me if I take a little nap before the 
musicale begins?” said Miss Canary. 

Jenny said, “Yes, indeed, that will 
be just the thing for you to do.” 

So Miss Canary folded her dainty 
wings and lay down upon a tiny 
49 


yellow couch, tucked a little satin 
sofa-pillow under her head and was 
soon asleep. Jenny hopped quietly 
out of the room and closed the 
door. ' 

Down stairs she found everything 
being made ready for the musicale. 
The piano had been moved in from 
the music-room, for Mr. Robin, who 
was to play Miss Canary’s accom- 
paniments, had felt that the dining- 
room was a better place to sing in 
than the grand hall. 

“ We want everything to be just 
perfect,” said Mrs. Sparrow, who 
was hopping about everywhere in 
great excitement and chattering like 
a Magpie all the time. “ Isn’t Miss 
Canary a dear, and how good she 
is to come and sing, and isn’t her 
gown the very prettiest shade of yel- 
low you ever saw?” 

Just here she spied a “Chippy 
Sparrow” who was the waitress, 
50 


carrying a bowl of rain water into the 
dining-room; so the little hostess 
hopped after her to see that she put 
it in the right place, while Jenny 
went up to Miss Canary’s room to 
help her get ready for the musicale. 

By four o’clock the terrace was 
full of birds. They arrived so fast 
and there were so many of them 
that there was hardly standing room. 
Indeed, many of the very politest 
gentlemen birds hung by their feet 
from the picture moulding to make 
room for the ladies on the floor. 
Finally they cleared a space for Miss 
Canary, who tiptoed modestly, with 
downcast eyes, to the front. She 
stood upon the piano while her host 
introduced her, and then she sang — 
and such singing Jenny had never 
heard before. Such trilling, cooing 
and chirping! No one could hear 
her and not be delighted with her 
beautiful voice; and this little audience 


was most cordial, for all of them 
were really very musical themselves. 
Right in the midst of it all, little 
Mrs. Sparrow had to leave the room 
to attend to the young Sparrows, 
who were making a frightful noise 
in the nursery above. 

Jenny hurried along with her, 
thinking she might be of some as- 
sistance, and found that Tom had 
fallen out of his crib and lay help- 
less on his back, chirping loudly for 
Mama and kicking at his little nurse 
most violently every time she at- 
tempted to help him. 

“ Oh, such naughty, naughty chil- 
dren,” thought Jenny Wren. “ If they 
were mine, I should want them to 
grow up and fly away.” 

At last the concert was over and 
poor, tired little Mrs. Sparrow 
couldn’t help being very glad indeed. 
The birds began to express their 
pleasure— in bird language, of course, 
52 


— and they all speak so nearly alike 
that the Sparrow understands the 
Blackbird, and the Bluebird, the 
Robin, the Kingfisher, the Bobolink, 
and so on. 

Little Miss Canary, however, hav- 
ing come from so far south, found 
it very difficult to understand what 
they were saying. The birds in the 
Canary Islands use larger words and 
talk longer at a time than the north- 
ern birds like the Robins and Bobo- 
links, who say things in a very short, 
quick way and say them a great 
many times over, as every little north- 
ern child knows. But Jenny Wren 
stood close beside Miss Canary and 
kindly told her the prettily worded 
praises of the bird company, who 
were all saying nice things about 
her voice and her singing. This 
pleased Miss Canary very much. 
She bowed and bowed, offering the 
tip of her dainty right wing to each 


one in turn as she bade him good- 
bye. She promised to come again, 
the next summer. 

At last they had all flown away 
and the bird-house soon became quiet, 
for “ Early to bed and early to rise, 
makes a bird healthy, wealthy and 
wise ” has been the motto of the 
whole bird family hundreds of years 
before the great Benjamin Franklin 
wrote almost the same motto for lit- 
tle boys and girls to learn. 

Mrs. Sparrow took Miss Canary 
to her room, and then visited the 
nursery to tuck in each little Spar- 
row for the night. The tears came 
to her eyes as she bent over little 
Tom, who had fallen out of his crib 
that afternoon. Although he was now 
fast asleep, he was still sobbing. 

Mrs. Sparrow had given little Jenny 
Wren a very cordial invitation to stay 
over night, so she was there in the 
morning when Miss Canary had bid- 
54 


den them good-bye and started on her 
journey. She was about to go her- 
self when she heard Mrs. Sparrow 
saying, “Oh, dear! Oh, dear 11 Oh, 
dear 1 1 1 What shall I do? Do come 
here and see what has happened!” 

Jenny hopped as fast as she could 
into the room where Miss Canary 
had slept and found that, to Mrs. 
Sparrow’s dismay, in the hurry of 
the day before, the maids had for- 
gotten to put water in Miss Canary’s 
room, or sheets on the bed; and the 
poor dear had been obliged to lie 
on the dried alder leaves all night, 
with nothing between them and her 
beautiful gown. 

“You certainly would never have 
known it, would you, Jenny Wren? 
How she could contrive to come 
down this morning with unruffled 
plumage is more than I know. I 
am afraid she will never come here 
again!” 


55 


“Oh, dear! Oh, dear!” said Jenny, 
in her turn; and “Oh, dear! Oh, 
dear,” repeated little Mrs. Sparrow, 
both fairly crying as they sat down 
on the nest in the nursery. They 
both felt very blue indeed, but pres- 
ently Jenny had a bright thought. 

“ Why don’t you write her a note 
and explain all about it?” she said. 

“ Why, so I can. I’ll do it right 
away.” So Mrs. Sparrow sat down 
at a little desk in her room, wrote 
a note on a blade of grass, with a 
quill pen, and sent a “Chippy Spar- 
row” off with it “a- flying.” 

Mrs. Sparrow and Jenny Wren 
hopped down stairs together and out 
through the arched door. Jenny 
thanked her hostess for the pleasant 
time she had had, and promised to 
come again soon. 

“ Dear me,” she thought to herself, 
hesitating for a moment as she glanced 
downward, “ I have never stayed away 
56 


from home so long as this before. 
What will Mama think?” 

This time she didn’t seem to be 
in the least afraid. She closed her 
eyes, spread out her wings and flew 

straight into her little 

bed. 

‘‘Why, why, I’ve had another Bird- 
House Dream,” she said, when she 
was fairly awake; and later she told 
her most intimate friends, Gracie and 
Constance and Harriet, all about her 
last visit to the bird-house. She 
was so much better now that they 
had come, with her cousin Caroline, 
to see her and all four of the little 
girls ran to the nursery window to 
look out at the bird-house and all 
four wished they might dream about 
going inside of it, just as Jenny had 
dreamed of doing. 

‘‘Just shut your eyes tight and 
think about it hard just before you 
go to sleep,” was the little girl’s 
57 


advice to her friends, and they all 
said they would try, and would tell 
each other the very next day what 
they had dreamed. 



58 



i 


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3 


THE LITTLE BIRDS’ COMING 
OUT PARTY 



HERE was a great flutter of 


1 poplar leaves one day, so much 
so that the people noticed it and said, 
“Just see how that tree is shedding 
its leaves.” Clouds of the little yellow 
and green things were floating about 
in the air. 

“ Oh, I know,” said Jenny, as one 
flew in at her window. “ Those are 
the invitations for the little Sparrows’ 
coming out party.” 

Little Mrs. Sparrow had felt for 
some time that her children were now 
large enough to be better known in 


6i 


bird society, and as the time was 
drawing near when they and their 
special bird friends would be going 
to the Southland for the winter, if 
she was to give this party for Tom, 
Ben and Susan, she must do it now. 

The poplar tree grew very near 
the bird-house and little Mrs. Sparrow 
had asked Mrs. Poplar if she might 
use her leaves for invitations. 

“ Oh, take as many as you like. 
You are quite welcome,” said Mrs. 
Poplar. “I shall be going into win- 
ter quarters very early myself, this 
year. You may have all you need.” 

Whether she realized that it would 
take so many, or not, we do not 
know; but Mrs. Sparrow’s family 
were very much liked and had a 
great many friends, so that ever so 
many invitations were needed to reach 
them all. The gentle South Wind 
had graciously offered to distribute 
them. He really had had no idea 
62 


that it would take so many leaves, or 
so much time, but it had kept him 
busy nearly all day; and by sundown 
Mrs, Poplar stood shivering a little, 
as the wind had come round into 
the east. 

The Sparrow family had flown 
about in all directions to find the 
right place for their party and had 
finally decided that the triangle in 
front of the Pearl Street School was 
in every way the best spot. It was 
not too far for the smaller birds. 
Then there were tall trees for their 
flying bird games and, above all, 
there was a large pond in the cen- 
ter of the triangle which the rain 
had made. It seemed like a very 
large pond to the Sparrow family, 
but it really was what Jenny called 
a fair-sized mud puddle. The fact 
that it was near the schoolhouse 
and that the boys and girls might 
see them from the windows, made 
63 


it all the more desirable — for birds 
really love children, even if they 
don’t show it. 

Mrs. Sparrow had invited all of 
the very young birds of Tom, Ben 
and Susan’s age, and had set the 
hour from two to three in the after- 
noon, for she knew very well that 
little birds must be home in season 
to go to bed early. Their parents 
were invited to come with them, of 
course. 

It was a lovely day in early fall. 
The sun shone down through the 
trees, making spots of sunshine on 
the grass below. The pond had not 
dried up at all, except on the very 
edge, where the shiny mud was soft 
and cool to the little birds’ feet as 
they patted happily about in it. Birds 
are very much like boys and girls, 
you see, for everybody knows that 
all children love to ‘‘ go barefooted ” 
in a mud-puddle. 

64 


Of course Jenny Wren was one of 
the first at the party. Father and 
Mother Sparrow and the three little 
Sparrows were there very early. 
Most birds are prompt, and an invi- 
tation for two o’clock to them does 
not mean half-past two. 

It is hard to tell what they did 
not do to amuse themselves. They 
chased each other up into trees and 
down again. They played a game 
in which they hopped from one 
bright spot of sunshine to another, 
no two birds being allowed on the 
same spot at the same time. They 
tried to see which could pull up the 
most blades of grass, and a large 
blue-bottle fly was the prize. 

But the principal amusement was 
bathing. They bathed and bathed, 
flew up into the trees, shook them- 
selves, and then went in again. Jenny 
thought if these bird mothers had 
been real mothers they would have 

65 


been dreadfully frightened to have 
their children go into the water so 
many times in one day. But the bird 
mothers didn’t seem to mind at all. 
In fact, they went in themselves as 
many times as their little folks did. 

It seemed to Jenny Wren that she 
had never had so much fun in all her 
life. She went wading in the pond 
with the other birds. While she was 
taking a dip, whom should she see 
but two of her little girl friends, Vir- 
ginia and Gracie, who had been sent 
on an errand for the teacher and who 
were on their way back to the 
schoolhouse. They had stopped to 
watch the bird party. They didn’t 
stand very near, and the birds didn’t 
seem to mind them at all. The lit- 
tle girls laughed and laughed as they 
watched them play pranks on each 
other, exactly as boys and girls do 
at their parties. 

All of a sudden something hap- 

66 


pened which might have been a 
tragedy — and a tragedy is a very dread- 
ful thing indeed. A bird much larger 
than the parents of any of the young 
birds came walking out of a door- 
yard across the street and up to the 
pond. He had a broad bill and 
waddled as he walked. He came up 
to the party and said something in 
the queerest language they had ever 
heard. To the little girls it sounded 
like “Quack,” “Quack.” To the 
little birds it sounded very loud and 
harsh. They were much frightened 
and started to fly away, when Mrs. 
Sparrow assured them that this was 
only Dr. Duck, their family physi- 
cian. After a minute or two, this 
strange bird waddled into the pond, 
which was quite deep. Each little 
bird stood on tiptoe on the shore, 
all very much frightened, and fairly 
gasping with horror to see him go 
on and on. Finally he stopped wad- 
67 


ing and they could see that he was 
swimming. He looked back over his 
shoulder and said, “Quack,” “Quack,” 
again. 

Then it dawned upon each Mr. 
Bird that he was being dared to do 
the same thing. Now, they had none 
of them been taught to swim. In- 
deed, it is a very rare thing for 
land-birds to swim. Bathing on the 
edge of a pond was one thing, and 
swimming across it was another. By 
this time the strange bird had reached 
shallow water again, had shaken his 
stubby tail and had waddled off, 
with another “Quack,” “Quack,” 
over his shoulder, which seemed to 
say, “You don’t dare,” “You don’t 
dare.” 

Then the gentlemen birds and their 
sons held a hurried talk at the head 
of the pond. The ladies felt that 
this was no time for them to speak. 
The Mr. Birds agreed that the dare 
68 


could not be ignored and that for 
the honor of the bird kingdom, and 
especially of the Sparrow family who 
were entertaining them, some one 
ought to swim across the pond. Be- 
fore they could come to any conclu- 
sion, however, Mr. E. Sparrow stepped 
forward like a hero. He threw him- 
self, unmindful of the cries of his 
wife and three little daughters, into 
the waters of the pond. He plunged 
in so deeply that he sank at once, 
and for a moment was stuck fast in 
the mud at the bottom. Kicking 
himself loose, however, he struck out 
manfully with his wings, but flying 
and swimming are very different. 
The other little birds knew then 
what was happening. He was in the 
middle of the pond and struggling 
for his life. His friends were all fly- 
ing about in wild excitement, trying 
to tell him what to do, when they 
didn’t know themselves. His wife 
69 


had fainted and the daughters were 
rushing back and forth from the 
pond, where their father was drown- 
ing, to the bank, where their mother 
was fainting. 

Just here one of the two little 
girls who had been watching the 
birds’ party saw that Mr. E. Sparrow 
was in danger of drowning. With- 
out a moment’s hesitation she waded 
into the mud-puddle, without stop- 
ping to take off her shoes, and 
brought the poor, gasping little bird 
to shore. She laid him tenderly on 
one of the warm, sunshiny spots on 
the bank and then looked down, in 
dismay, at her wet shoes and stock- 
ings. The little girls went on to 
the schoolhouse, where the teacher, 
not quite understanding it, reproved 
them both for not coming directly 
back when sent on an errand, and 
especially Virginia for stopping to 
wade in a mud-puddle with her shoes 
70 


and stockings on. The girls told her 
all about it and, when she under- 
stood it, she said she would excuse 
them and that she was glad Virginia 
had saved poor little Mr. E. Spar- 
row’s life. 

He had soon revived, having been 
rolled about on the grass and led 
about . by the wings until he declared 
he felt as well as ever. It was then 
time for refreshments. They were to 
be served at the Martins’ garbage 
pail, not far away. Father Sparrow 
gave the signal and in a moment 
a great flock of them were flying 
past Dr. Palmer’s barn and Mr. 
Coolidge’s house. There was a large 
variety of eatables, for the Martins 
had had a party the night before, 
and Mrs. Sparrow’s guests hovered 
about the dainties with little chirps 
of content and, it must be said, 
with better manners than usual, for 
they offered each other bits of cake and 
71 


the outside of chicken sandwiches, or 
said, “ Have you found any of those 
delicious macaroons?” “This block 
sugar is unusually fine, Mrs. Spar- 
row,” “ Do have a bit of this can- 
died orange peel,” and so on. Per- 

haps it was because they were at a 
party, for birds are apt to be rather 
selfish as a rule, when it comes to 

eating, and each looks out for him- 
self. 

At three o’clock to the minute, 
Mr. and Mrs. Sparrow and the three 
little Sparrows stood on the stump 
of a tree near the bird-house and 
said good-bye to their guests. All 
the young birds were told by their 
mothers to touch wings with the 

Sparrow family and say that they had 
had a very nice time. The father 
and mother birds — even poor little Mr. 
E. Sparrow — did the same, and added 
that they had enjoyed it more than 
any party they had ever attended. 


f When the last guest had flown 

t away, Mrs. Sparrow chirped “ Up ” 

^ to Ben and Tom and Susan Sparrow, 

^ and they all disappeared for the 

!: night into the white bird- house. 




‘^Shecame to the window in her white nightie just in time to 
see the whole flock rise into the air and fly away due South.” 


CHAPTER VI 


THE SPARROW FAMILY GOES 
SOUTH FOR THE WINTER 

“TT is better to go while the 

X weather is pleasant,” said Moth- 
er Sparrow. 

” It will be less trouble to get 
food on the way if we don’t wait 
too long,” said thrifty Father Sparrow. 

” But we’re having such a good 
time here, where we have so many 
children-birds to play with,” said 
Ben and Tom and Susan Sparrow, 
who had never been South in their 
lives. “We’re used to things here 
and we should miss our friends and 
Jenny and Constance and Gracie and 
Dr. Baldwin’s apple tree.” 

75 


“ What should we do without the 
Merriams’ garbage pail?” wailed the 
smallest of the three little Sparrows, 
who had the largest appetite of all. 

” My dears,” said their father, in a 
very deep chirp, when the “Chippy” 
who waited upon them had left the 
dining room, “you will have to take 
Father’s and Mother’s advice in this 
matter. We stayed North too long 
one year and were very sorry. We 
nearly froze to death. This house 
has no means of heating, the fireflies 
will not give us any more light, 
and servants are so scarce in winter 
that you and your mother would 
have to take all the care of the bird- 
house yourselves.” 

This was a new light upon the 
subject and the little Sparrows stopped 
talking about staying North for the 
Winter. They went quietly about, 
helping their mother get ready to 
leave the house in perfect order. 

76 


The little cribs were folded up, Mrs. 
Sparrow dropping a tear into each, 
and set against the nursery wall. The 
piano was closed and covered care- 
fully with leaves, for the older birds 
knew that the snow would make its 
way into their lovely home while 
they were gone and that they must 
take every precaution. 

Every time they went out for an 
airing, the Sparrow family flew to 
say good-bye to some one or some 
place that they loved. Once they 
went to the edge of Dr. Palmer’s 
roof which looked down upon the 
Merriams’ piazza, where the three 
little girls, Jenny and Constance and 
Grade, had played day after day. 
They talked it all over as they 
hopped about. How dear the chil- 
dren had been to them all summer! 
How many times they had seen them 
spread bread-crumbs and dainties on 
the tree stump near the garbage pail 


which was in plain sight of the bird- 
house! How good Jenny had been 
to give them all they wanted of her 
Molasses Candy Boy; and they said 
again and again, that if it hadn’t 
been for Virginia’s bravery, and for 
her not caring if she did get her 
shoes and stockings wet, poor Mr. E. 
Sparrow would be in his grave. 

One morning, bright and early, they 
flew over to Constance’s window and 
said “ Good-bye ” to her from the 
window sill. She was so sleepy that 
she only opened one eye and shut it 
again, so she never knew that it was 
a farewell from her beloved family of 
Sparrows that had wakened her. 
Another morning they went to Gracie’s 
room in the same way. She heard 
them and ran to the window; but 
they weren’t used to seeing her in 
white, so they thought it was a 
stranger and all flew away before she 
could speak. 


78 


At last the morning for their going 
South came. Each little Sparrow had 
been taught how to oil his plumage 
to make his coat rain-proof. Mother 
Sparrow had carefully packed a box 
for each one to carry under his wing. 
Into them she had put bits of fruit- 
cake and dried fruits — we hardly need 
state where she had found these dain- 
ties. She had added a lump of block 
sugar with a brown stain on one 
end which looked like coffee. Block 
sugar, you know, is excellent for sore 
throat and she felt that they might 
have some trouble of that nature be- 
fore they reached the South. 

Many families were to go at the 
same time. They were all to meet 
on the terrace of the bird-house. By 
five o’clock a great many birds were 
there, all talking excitedly and making 
such a noise that sleepy people, who 
didn’t understand them, turned cross- 
ly in their beds and wished “those 
79 


sparrows would stop their racket.” 

Father Sparrow had been elected 
leader for the party. He was known 
to be very clear-headed and to have 
a good bump of location. He car- 
ried, beside his box of provisions 
under one wing, a small but com- 
plete map of the route under the 
other, both tied on with strong 
strings. It was a gay scene. All the 
birds were constantly taking little 
short flights from the terrace to the 
near-by trees to try their wings. Mr. 
Cat-bird, who had come to see them 
off, began to cry like a kitten from 
down in the grass and when they 
found what a joke he had played 
upon them, they all flew upon him 
and pretended to peck him for a 
punishment. The Sparrow family 
kept going back to their dear bird- 
house to say “good-bye” once more 
and Mrs. Sparrow’s wings drooped 
sadly when Father Sparrow said they 


really must start. He stood with 
Mother Sparrow and the three little 
Sparrows on the edge of the terrace, 
the others behind them, all ready to 

fly. 

“Just one song now for Jenny,” 
said Father Sparrow; and they all 
burst forth with great heartiness, for 
Jenny was a favorite with the birds, 
as we have seen. 

Their music awakened the little 
girl from sleep and she came to the 
window in her white nightie, just in 
time to see the whole flock rise into 
the air and fly away due South. 



8i 



CHAPTER VII 

JENNY’S FLY-AWAY CANARY 
HY, that can’t be thunder!” 



exclaimed the lady who was 


calling upon Jenny’s mother. 

“Oh, no,” said she, “that’s Robert 
playing with the bird.” 

“ Playing with the bird and mak- 
ing such a noise!” said the surprised 
lady. “What kind of a bird can it 
be not to be frightened to death?” 

“ A canary,” said Jenny’s mother. 
“ Come upstairs with me and I’ll 
show you.” 

So the two ladies went up to the 
nursery. There the two ladies found 
the dear grandmother, who sat calmly 
sewing, and Robbie, who was a golden- 


haired, curly-headed, blue-eyed baby 
of two. He was pushing about on 
the bare floor a window seat on 
castors, with a box-plaited petticoat. 
He had thrown its top cushion into 
a corner of the bay-window. In all 
directions went the big box, the baby 
flushed and excited, shouting with 
glee. On the top of the box rode a 
little canary-bird — a dainty, slender 
little fellow, with a pale yellow coat 
of feathers and a voice like a silver 
flute. He broke into song as the 
ladies stood in the doorway, not at 
all frightened by the fact that just 
then the box ran into a chair with 
a famous “whack.” 

Robert, spying his mother, deserted 
his play and his playmate and ran 
to her. The ladies seated themselves 
for a chat with Grandma — Robbie 
perched contentedly in his mother’s 
lap. 

The little bird had turned sharp, 
83 


bright eyes upon the stranger. Then 
he had flown to the roof of his cage 
which hung in a sunny window, and 
so he was forgotten for the moment. 
Suddenly, with a whirr of the tiny 
wings, he flew down to Grandma’s 
shoulder. There he ran about, first 
on one shoulder, then on the other, 
under her chin and part way down 
her back, until the good lady was 
positively annoyed — or would have 
been if she had not seen how it 
amused the visitor. 

Just here Master Dixie left Grand- 
ma’s shoulder and alighted upon the 
forefinger of her right hand. There 
he rode back and forth as she sewed, 
and no amount of gentle shaking 
would make his clinging claws let 
go. He seemed to think it a sort 
of fighting game and clung fast to 
her finger with spread wings, little 
bill wide open, and eyes like angry, 
black beads. 


84 


Tiring of his rather rough ride, 
he next took a stand upon Grand- 
ma’s white head. Selecting a hair 
daintily with his bill, he braced him- 
self and pulled with all his might. 
Grandma’s patience was exhausted. 

“Now, Dixie-bird, that’s a little too 
much! I’m going to stitch on the 
sewing-machine and you’ll have to 
go into your cage.” So, after giving 
him a seed from her lips, she took 
him on her finger to the door 
of the gilded cage. He hopped in 
very willingly and the door was 
closed. 

Grandma sat down to the machine. 
She began to sew, and went quite a 
long way before she discovered that 
she hadn’t stitched a stitch. “ It’s 
that Dixie’s work again,” she said 
to the lady. “I can’t keep the thread 
in the machine needle when he is 
out of his cage. He’ll pull it out 
every time.” 


85 


“I see you don’t keep the nursery 
door shut. Doesn’t he ever fly into 
the other part of the house?” asked 
Mrs. Eldridge. 

“ Very seldom,” said Jenny’s mother, 
“and then we can find him easily, 
for he always answers when we call. 
Dixie,” she said, her voice only a 

very little louder than before. 

“Cheep!” answered Dixie cheer- 

fully, from the vicinity of the seed- 
cup in his cage. Birds always have 
an appetite all the time. 

“You never feel afraid that he’ll 
fly out of a window?” asked the 
visitor, who couldn’t seem to get 

used to a bird’s being so exactly 
one of the family. 

“Oh, no indeed!” said Jenny’s 

mother, as they said good-bye to 
Grandma and Robert and went down- 
stairs to finish the call that Robert’s 
“thunder” had interrupted. 

Both the lady and Jenny’s mother 


thought of their conversation a few 
days later when the whole family 
was thrown into grief and dismay. 
Dixie had flown out of a window 
and had been gone all night. Jenny 
felt so badly that her mother had 
said that she might stay home from 
school that forenoon, hoping that by 
afternoon she should have had her 
cry out and her mind could be di- 
verted from her lost bird. Poor 
child! each time she looked at the 
empty cage she burst into tears, and 
even when the cook allowed her to 
help with the gingersnaps — which was 
a special favor — she could not keep her 
mind off her bird. Again and again 
she wondered if he had been cold 
and hungry all night, and once a 
great tear splashed down upon the 
little cakes she was lifting from the 
pan with a knife. 

Suddenly Mother called out to her, 
“Jenny, I do believe I hear Dixie 

87 


singing over in the trees near the 
river, ” 

Jenny deserted the cook and the 
gingersnaps in a flash and was out 
on the piazza, listening. There were 
many birds in the trees near the 
river, but it did seem as if one song 
was different from all the others. 

“ Dixie, Dixie!” cried the little girl, 
although she was too far away for 
him to hear her. 

“ Take the cage with you,” called 
Mother, who was as much excited 
as her daughter. 

So with the bright cage in her 
hand she ran across the fields be- 
tween their house and the river. 

“ Dixie, Dixie!” she called, unceas- 
ingly. She paused a moment to 
listen. “ Dixie!” she called again. 
Did she? — yes, she did hear an an- 
swering “Cheep!” in the same cheer- 
ful tone that Dixie always had. 
Now she drew near enough to see 


into the tops of the trees. The birds 
that were flying about them were 
not bright in color, nor did they 
answer to her call. 

“ Dixie!” 

“Cheep!” came from farther up the 
stream. 

“Oh, Dixie, you’re going away 
from me!” half sobbed the little girl 
as she ran on in the direction of 
the bird-voice she knew. He led her 
from tree to tree, making her heart- 
sick from excitement and anxiety in 
a way Dixie would never have done 
if he could have known what he 
was doing. At last she saw a dart- 
ing gleam of yellow in a tall tree. 
She held high the cage which had 
been his home for so long, and her 
childish voice rose above the murmur 
of the river among the stones along 
the bank. 

“ Cheep, Cheep!” went on the gay 
bird-voice. 


89 


“ Oh, Dixie, do come home!” 
pleaded the child. “We all love you 
so, and we want you so.” 

As if this was more of an appeal 
than he could withstand, Dixie, with 
a happy little burst of song, flew 
down to her, leaving behind him 
his freedom, the trees, the society 
of birds, and alighted on the roof 
of his own cage. Jenny held her 
breath, not daring to speak. Round 
and round the cage he went, cling- 
ing to the wires, with little, low, 
happy chirps, until he found the 
open door and whisked ‘ in, going 
directly to the seed-cup. Jenny closed 
the door quickly and walked away 
home as if on air. 

“I have him. Mama, I have him! 
Here’s Dixie, Robert!” she called. 

The whole family gathered on the 
side veranda to see her come home 
with her bird and all were so happy 
about it. The cook brought some 

90 


fresh gingersnaps for every one, in- 
cluding Dixie, who ate his crumb 
with a fine relish, hopping gaily from 
one perch to the other, and chirp- 
ing joyously as if to say, “It really 
pays to run away once in awhile, to 
find out how much people think of 


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